


Lupercalia

by chewysugar



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Chases, F/M, Forests, Games, No Sex, Paranormal Romance, Public Nudity, Snow, Stripping, Teasing, Werewolf Dean, Werewolves, Winter, chase kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 19:58:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18079946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chewysugar/pseuds/chewysugar
Summary: On a dark, snowy night, a beastly Dean chases his mate through the woods. Renee is running for her life...or is she?





	Lupercalia

**Author's Note:**

> If any of the WWE superstars ever read these things, I'd likely die of embarrassment.

Not for the first time in her life, Renee found herself running for all she was worth. Each breath seared her lungs with sharp, winter air. Her boots crunched through snow, the frantic steps like a crunch through bone.

Skeletal trees threatened to block her flight, but if Renee had one of  many advantages this night, it was a knowledge of the Canadian backwoods. But that wouldn’t mean a Tim Hortons timbit if her pursuer caught up.

Beneath her gasping breath and thundering heart, she heard him—far behind, snarling and tearing at branches as if they were twigs.

Renee’s eyes met the moon, silver and full overhead. Not for the first time, she cursed the domineering bitch. If the moon could give voice, it would likely have said, in the tone of someone Renee heartily loathed (she often imagined it as Maryse Mizanin or the members of LayCool) it likely would have said: “Nobody had a gun against your head; you knew what you were getting into when you found out about his condition.”

But Dean had never been this volatile during the Change. A little more dominant, certainly. And handsy? Renee anticipated the week of the full moon by sheer virtue of the fact that her wolf-man became a veritable porn star by day.

Tonight, though, he’d crossed a line. Renee hadn’t a clue as to what had set him off, only that it had been an altogether frightening change. She couldn’t believe that Dean would hurt her; Hell, she was the only person in his world that he’d never hurt. But the ferocious animalism that had overtaken him had shattered nearly everything Renee thought she knew.

If he caught up, Renee wasn’t going to back down. Canadian she might be, but the stereotypical politeness meant bunk. Hers was a country where most people were all smiles and sorry-about-that-eh’s with a strict sense of primitive self-preservation beneath. Her mom had taught her how to find her way in the woods; her man had taught her how to fight, and Natalya Hart had personally instructed her on the art of taking down a man—or man-Beast—twice her size.

And she also had other tricks up her sleeve that the WWE would have lost its collective mind over.

Renee leapt across a frozen gully, snow flying beneath her feet.

Just because she could fight back didn’t mean she wanted to.

All around were thick, snow covered pines and ghostly silver birch. In a moment of utter panic, Renee imagined an army of frozen phantoms, standing in the way of any and all escape.

She shook the unhelpful notions from her mind. Despite her fear, Renee hadn’t lost her bearings yet. She’d be free soon enough, just as soon as she crossed—

A branch cracked not ten feet behind her. Renee spun around, eyes wide; but she didn’t stop moving. Not entirely. She knew better. With her steps paced evenly, she walked backwards, eyes fixed on the beast standing barefoot in the snow in front of her.

Dean was always a spectacle of raw, masculine sex appeal. The change amplified the muscle beyond peak primal perfection. He stood taller by a good several inches, his muscles rippling with each movement. It seemed as if his skin could scarcely contain the powerful strength that the moon gave his body.

“Don’t run away, Little Red,” he growled. “My big eyes want to look at you some more.”

“Going to have to catch me first, Grandma.” Renee tried to keep her voice even as she backed away. But fear shook her vocal chords to the roots, as did no uncertain amount of lust. Dean’s clothes had long since shredded, as they always did with the force of the change, and damn it if lycanthropy of this sort didn’t have a mouthwatering effect on what had already been a glorious man.

But Renee conquered her terror and desire. She hadn’t been betrothed to the lunatic fringe for nothing.

Dean’s eyes glowed a hungry gold. The light of the moon caught the claws that had grown from his fingernails. He smiled, his fangs primed to bite.

“Careful, pretty. You might be eating those words soon.”

“Eat this, Wolfgang.” And with that, Renee kicked an enormous chunk of ice from the ground. Dean dodged the missile. Renee didn’t waste a moment; she turned and ran on, bobbing between trees and flying over snow-covered rocks.

Dean let out a howl that shook the snow from the pines. Renee could smell the faint brine of frozen water up ahead. She’d be home free soon, at the end of the line.

Her goading had only spurred Dean’s thirst. He pounded through the snow harder and faster than before. Renee felt, and fought, an urge to scream. She thought of their living room, and how it had been left before she’d fled out into the wilderness: furniture slashed, end tables upturned, electronics mangled and wax fruit clawed.

And all because of that goddamn moon.

“Going to get you!” Dean’s voice called, echoing around the woods. “Going to pin you down and take your throat.”

Renee grit her teeth. Ahead lay what appeared to be a clearing covered in snow. But Renee had hiked through the wilderness enough to know it for it was. She smirked, and willed her legs to carry her forth despite their protests.

Just a little further. Across that stretch of seemingly snow lay her salvation.

A feral cry chilled her. Renee leapt a full three feet forward; she felt something sharp slice through the back of her jacket, through down and the fabric of her sweater. Her skin tingled in expectation of being shredded, but she’d dodged just in the nick of time.

“Oh fuck!” Dean’s primitive growls lost all their bite. He gasped the words, but Renee didn’t dare turn around. She dove for all she was worth, throwing her arms out. Like a graceful sealion, she slid on her front along the surface of a frozen pond.

She felt the ice beneath her crack, but it held long enough for her to reach clear across the other side. Seizing her chance, Renee scrambled up the bank. Within two feet of a bare tree that stood quite alone at the crest of a small hall, she turned with a satisfied smirk to gloat over her pursuer.

Her face fell. Dean had tried to cross the pond on foot, and was now wading through knee-deep water. Ice swirled around him, floating on the surface like the remains of some shattered mirror.

“What in the blue hell are you doing?,” she said.

Dean didn’t appear to hear her. For a moment, Renee wondered if their little game had truly crossed some kind of line.

She’d asked him to give into the call of his Beast, just for something a little more kinky to do. He’d been afflicted since puberty and so had his reign on the wolf down Roman.

So what gave with his current, pitiful desperation?

Renee was halfway down the slope when the breeze ruffled the gash on the back of her jacket.

_Oh fuck me in a pumpkin patch and carve me at Halloween_ , she thought.

“Dean—

He all but tackled her to the snow the second he was within arms-reach. Renee would have been consumed by cold if not for several reasons, not least of which was the fact that Dean ran the temperature of a black car left in the sun when in the grips of the Change.

He whimpered, his body tense above hers as he held her close. It did touch something deep in Renee’s heart; but despite the fact that her life had all the trappings of a paranormal romance novel, she happened to be a grown-ass woman.

Renee narrowed her eyes. “Dean, you’re going to suffocate me.”

Really, as if he didn't smell the absence of blood on her.

He sat up, his golden eyes brimming. Renee gave him an encouraging smile despite the overwhelming desire to grimace.

“I’m fine,” she sighed. “You only swiped my Arctic Goose. You’re going to have to pay for—

Dean launched himself over her head. _Clear_ over her head, so that Renee got an eyeful of Grade A Ohioan meat.

With several easy strides, he bounded up the hill, and wrapped a hand around the slender trunk of the tree.

“Yes!” Dean howled, thrusting his fists into the air. “Finish line first!”

A low growl worked its way up from the very roots of Renee’s soul. She tore through the snow and slammed her hands against Dean’s chest (which proved about as effective as a sparrow colliding with a buffalo's flank).

“ _That’s cheating_!” Renee fumed.

Dean caught her hands, firm but gentle as he ever was with her. He gazed into her eyes, smiling in that wheat-fields beneath blue-skies way of his. Even with the preternatural glow of his Beast, he still had the power to pluck at Renee’s baser instincts.

“You said there was only one rule,” Dean murmured.

Renee huffed, and snatched her hands away. Folding her arms across her chest, she fixed Dean with a glare that had quelled the smarmy likes of Corey Graves.

“I know,” she grumbled. “No drawing blood.”

“And I almost did.” She felt his fingers brush along the claw-marks in her jacket.

“Yeah, well...so did I.” She winced when she thought about the block of ice she’d Falcon-kicked at his head.

Dean wrapped his arms around her. Warmth blossomed through Renee’s body. What good was it keeping piss and vinegar running through her veins when her wolf made her blood sing?

“I could have taken it,” he said. His lips brushed against the side of her neck.

Alright. Screw being vindictive. That could wait for those days when Dean committed really egregious acts of stupidity: using all the low-cal sweetener, changing the channel when _The Bachelorette_ was on, and not aiming properly at the toilet when he peed.

Renee tilted her head back, letting Dean’s lips graze the juncture where her pulse beat. She felt him shiver, and grinned. What woman wouldn’t this kind of power over a man who was also a wolf? And she didn’t even have to try very hard, either.

“You did great,” Dean whispered.

“For real?”

“As real as real can be. You almost had me licked.”

Renee sighed. Dean’s hand traced up her front; he pulled the zipper of her jacket down, slowly, teasingly.

“And I had to go and—panic at the acid test,” Renee filled as the full force of Dean’s heat traveled up her torso.

“No way, baby. I freaked out and you freaked out about me being freaked out. Makes us human.”   
  
Renee smiled.

Then she twisted out of his embrace, turned around, and, with one hand pressed into his chest, she shoved him backwards. Dean fell, ass in the snow, and stared at her in momentary bemusement.

Renee’s own eyes glowed a bright, frosty blue. Shrugging her jacket off, she gripped her sweater in both hands and peeled it slowly over her head. 

To say that Dean was currently standing at attention would have been a massive understatement.

Renee had had enough of chasing and toying; all she wanted now was to enjoy the spoils of her victory. Even if she wasn’t fully acclimated to the life of a she-wolf, she still savored the benefits: enhanced senses and agility, and a libido to shame Aphrodite.

“Out here?” Dean said by way of keeping up the appearance of civility.

Renee stepped out of her jeans and climbed into Dean’s lap.

“Didn’t I just say that we were human?” Dean sighed, even as he ran his hands up her sides and brushed his thumbs over the front of her bra.

“Stop talking,” Renee said. “And get to work.”

And, like the obedient pup he was, Dean listened. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm starting to prefer the "fade out before sex" endings, since I've been writing smut so long that I've gotten bored of it. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the story!


End file.
